The other side of the bed

Dec. 13th | Posted by ARTSHARKS 0 comments

He Said:

I can’t sleep with her next to me. Her hair spilling on my pillow, the rise and fall of her chest, the heat, oh god, the heat, sheets pushed all the way down, tangled in her long, sleep heavy legs. I turn to the left, the wrong side of the bed, as her breathing turns into the gentle snores of REM. I exhale in frustration and turn the other way. I can’t sleep with her next to me, but the two weeks that she was away I couldn’t do much else.

She Said:

I turn to my side, the right side, of the bed, edging toward the tipping point of sleep. And for a moment or two, dream awake. Ruminate. Over a string of pearly moments that brought me to this place. Silent snow falls in empty space. The bare winter and me, wrapped in layers of cold comfort. A letterbox flapping in the softly spoken wind. And a man, in midnight blue, travelling through, stands across a broken white lake, frozen in time.

Happy Birthday ARTSHARKS!

Nov. 17th | Posted by ARTSHARKS 0 comments

Birthday Girl by Maggie Taylor

He Said:

Blow out the candle. I hate the element of surprise. Especially with these “important dates”. I always feel like it’s an ambush. She holds her hair away from her face and smiles. I shrug.
(more…)

The Bon Viveur

Oct. 5th | Posted by ARTSHARKS 0 comments

Edward Kay - The Bon Viveur (ii)

He Said:

I’m not sure what she wants. Seven people across the table from me, six on my side. She glares, I turn to the left and ask a question I don’t want to know the answer to. She hovers; glittery smile, witty bon mots, my head spins. The salad leaves are wilted, the salmon too pink, the bread stale. I excuse myself. I’m drinking beer and watching the game on a not too low volume when she finds me. She hovers at the door, wine glass in hand, apprehensive smile. I ignore her and she knows better than to say anything. In the morning the table is spotless, no sign of dinner from the night before, no left overs in the fridge. A white envelope sits accusingly on the counter. I throw it in the now pristine trash can and pour myself a strong coffee. (more…)

Time wounds all Heals (II)

Sep. 13th | Posted by ARTSHARKS 0 comments

Frida Kahlo – Henry Fort Hospital (1932)

He Said:

Its time. They wheel her in. I wait outside. It takes longer than I thought. I stay outside the clinic making phonecalls. Afterwards we don’t discuss what just happened. We’re both extra formal. I am itching to get away but I feel something. Let’s call it care. She is a genuis at the silent stare out the window. I do the same. I offer to go up with her but she shakes her head and slams the cab door shut. The last of three children, I’ll never know their name. (more…)

No Pain No Gain

Sep. 8th | Posted by ARTSHARKS 0 comments

pic taken from: http://silencedwhispers.no.sapo.pt/pain.jpg

He Said:

I’m sick. Soldier down. I always get a little depressed when I’m sick. I reject weakness and this flies in the face of my super hero self image. She complains that I need mothering. I shrug and face the wall. I’m thinking, “of course I DO, I’m lying here sick, and probably dying, aren’t I?”. It’s safer to say nothing cause I’m too tired to plan an escape. She gets me the soup with a side of attitude, sighs, eye rolls. I hate this girl, and I hate that I cant break it off now. (more…)

Older posts

The other side of the bed

Happy Birthday ARTSHARKS!

The Bon Viveur

Time wounds all Heals (II)

No Pain No Gain

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